


“11 Kind Gestures”  -And 1 Rude One-

by JamyCatalyst (OutcastPack)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Darker Parts, Death of a loved one, F/M, Happy Ending, Super Sad Parts, Time Shenanigans, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 04:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15965165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutcastPack/pseuds/JamyCatalyst
Summary: 11 times kind gestures were exchanged. With 11 different faces they were received. But one time a rude gesture was given and on that day everything changed. -My 50th anniversary special one-shot that includes all of the Doctor's!-





	“11 Kind Gestures”  -And 1 Rude One-

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note (2013): This one-shot is in honor of 50 years of Doctor Who! All the Doctors are in here! So bare with me I don’t know all of them too well but I’m gonna try! Also some events may seem confusing at times, just imagine the Doctor had this all planned out from the beginning and it’ll make sense.
> 
> 2018 Note: I wrote this after only seeing a bit of Classic Who, reading it now I know it could be better. But I believe its not bad for what it is.

_Made a Doctor Who Discord Chat, for if you want to talk or see updates about this universe including art and designs, or if you just want to talk about Doctor Who in general:_

<https://discord.gg/ZN2BEU6>

**-X-**

****

**“11 Kind Gestures”**

**-** **And 1 Rude One** **-**

**Prologue-**

Moving to England wasn’t a terribly big leap. For twenty-three years I had lived in Seattle, went to school, then college, and lastly; got a job in publishing. I’m a writer myself, but doing editorial work is what pays the bills for me. I work for Penguin Publishing; first I worked in their Seattle offices then they sent me down here to be the Head Editor of the Science Fiction section of editorials.

 

I work near the heart of London itself but I live out in Temple. My flat’s just a small one-bedroom apartment, nothing fancy. I’ve got some great neighbors, and the ride to work everyday is the same. I go in, work for several hours in my office, then at noon come out to eat in Regent’s Park, and then after my hour long lunch break, I head back inside to finish up the day.

 

My life has never been overly complicated, pretty simple, and extremely dull. Books are all I have to fill my lust for excitement. I read them, I write them, and I edit them. I don’t do relationships, or clubs; I’m not a nocturnal person. I do play video games, not having grown out of being a kid just yet, but that’s about it.

 

You know, my life was just that boring, until some very strange things started happening to me. A series of strange events that started back on that autumn day, years ago, I didn’t think much of it back then, but now I know better.

 

**-X-**

 

**The First Doctor:**

Regent’s Park in fall is beautiful. The orange, red, and gold colored leafs everywhere. The kids playing, the dogs running around in the sunlight, it all had such an at ease contentment to it.

 

If there was one thing I liked to do during lunch it was sit on the bench in the middle of the park and watch the people. Sometimes I’d see elderly couples, little kids, parents, consulting detectives, and lonely travelers. I’d see all kinds of people and was sometimes inspired by them. The inspiration would either spark a new story idea or the urge to draw.

 

Either way Regent’s Park was a great place to relax and forget about work.

But that day, that fall day with the sun out and the leafs falling from their branches; I saw something I hadn’t seen before and was tugged toward it. I felt a wave of purpose overcome me and ran to it. At first it was nothing, just something small, but over the years it grew into something incredible.

 

“Sir!” I had tucked my hand wrapped sandwich away into my long leather jacket’s pocket. While sitting on the bench I had seen an elderly man all alone, having a hard time trying to walk. As he had left his walking stick back on the bench he had been sitting on _. ‘He must have forgotten it.’_ I thought as I helped the man to his feet, as he had staggered to his knees.

 

The man had white hair neatly pulled back, an old Victorian looking suit on, and deep rich eyes.

 

“Ah, thank you child. I must have forgotten my cane by the bench.” While on his feet he leaned into me, his legs not solid enough to keep him up. “I have become quite forgetful in my old age.” He mumbled, almost sounding angry, indigent, hating his own weakness.

 

I could understand that.

 

“Hold on one second, I’ll go get your cane.” I helped him over to a tree so that he could lean against it.

 

“Why thank you child.” The old man said, a sincerely grateful smile on his face.

 

It only took me a moment to run back and get his cane, when I got back to him I handed it over. The man took the cane and began to stand and walk on his own. Just in case the cane didn’t support him for long, I followed him for a spell, feeling slightly entranced by his presence.

 

“You know,” He began with a deep breath. “When one does not see the passage of time in it’s correct order one tends to forget that time still has an effect on them.” He wheezed then quickly continued. “It feels like so long ago when I first met Barbara and Ian.” His eyes were looking up through the trees, into the sky, so distant and longing.

 

His pace was slow but I kept beside him, almost feeling as if he was telling me a secret. There was just something about him, something so old and so mysterious. I was just slightly in awe. I didn’t really understand why.

 

 

 

“They showed me,” He clutched his cane tightly. “That perhaps there is more to humanity and Earth then I once thought.” A small, but very bright smile came upon his face. “One day, I shall come back. Yes, I shall come back. _One day_.” He whispers distantly, his smile growing, as he nods to himself.

 

I begin to wonder what he’s talking about, but before I can ask a woman appears, not as young as me but not old either. The old man looks happy to see her as she swiftly envelops him in a hug.

 

“Grandfather! Grandfather where have you been?” She sounds worried, she looks concerned, a grandchild in a nutshell.

 

“My dear Susan I have merely taken a stroll through the park, there is no need to worry.” This doesn’t seem to calm her much. The old man just sighs, his age certainly getting to him. “Alright, I suppose we should go. I grow ever so tired.”

 

The girl; Susan nods, but before they leave, she quickly turns to me. “Thank you for watching my grandfather, he tends to wander.” She smiles at me, her eyes warm and sincere.

 

I shrug. “No problem.”

 

She nods to me and takes her grandfather’s arm as they begin to walk away. Rather abruptly though they stop and the old man turns around and looks at me.

 

“Ah! Child I never caught your name!” He shouts, delight filling his weary voice.

 

I, myself, smile now and shout back. “Scarlett! Scarlett Graves!”

 

**-X-**

 

**The Second Doctor:**

It’s a year later, New Year’s Eve, out in Richmond Park, that I found myself encountering the next odd occurrence of my life. Two weeks prior I had finally become a published novelist, I just happen to have gotten a contract with Penguin Publishing, allowing me to retire from editing and finally do what I’d always dreamt of doing; writing.

 

My friend Lionel, from the editing office, decided to take me out for New Years in celebration. So we went to Richmond Park, where the neighborhood was shooting off fireworks. There were a lot of people there, lots of little kids with sparklers; they were even serving funnel cake! I hadn’t had funnel cake since the last Fair I had gone to with my father.

 

I was dressed warmly, a cup of hot chocolate in my hands as I watched the kids playing. Lionel had gone to get us something to eat, therefore I had decided to stay there and wait for him.

 

“Ah, excuse me!” Suddenly a very loud and thrilled sounding man appeared before me. “Would you perhaps have a lighter on you?” He asked nicely, a rocket in one of his hands, a strange cylindrical device in another. Which oddly, he put the strange device hastily away into his pocket when he realized he was holding it.

 

The man wore a bow tie and an old fashion suit. His trousers were also a few sizes too large for him. He had a black hair with a bowl haircut, and his smile was taking up the majority of his aged face.

 

I nodded. “Uh, yes.” I fished through my leather jacket pocket before I pulled out an old chrome zippo, a gift from my brother on my eighteenth birthday. I handed it to him and watched as he ran back to a kilt-wearing lad.

 

“Doctor do you really think this is such a good idea?” The man had a very thick Scottish accent, a kilt, and fluffy black hair, his tone that of a bit concerned.

 

“Not to worry Jamie! Not to worry! This Wizz-Banger will be brilliant! Just you watch!” The older man, a doctor apparently, lightly scolded the Scottish bloke as he gently took the rocket and put it on the ground.

 

The doctor looked up to make sure no branches were in the way, then made sure the ground was even under the rocket. When he was sure that everything was perfect he took my zippo and lit the fuse of the rocket.

 

“Fire in the hole!” The doctor cheerfully yelled as the rocket zipped up into the sky. It went up and up and up, and then everything fell silent. Just as I was beginning to think the firework was a dud a huge explosion of colors lite up the sky.

 

That one rocket didn’t last for a minute, nor two or three, it lasted for twenty minutes, as it just kept exploding with all the different colors of the rainbow and then some. That doctor character was right, it was absolutely brilliant!

 

When the show was over, Lionel still not back, the old man came back over to me and handed me back my lighter. “Thank you my dear!” He smiled merrily.

 

I shrugged. “No problem.” I replied as I put the lighter back into my pocket.

 

After I said that the doctor tilted his head, a pondering look upon his face. “Do I, perhaps, know you?” He asks, tilting his chin on his hand in wonderment.

 

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Your face isn’t familiar.” I stated.

 

He grinned sweetly then suddenly chuckled. “No, of course not, this face is rather new!”

 

I thought he was being sarcastic and laughed at his joke. The thing is though he was actually being dead serious.

 

“Well I must be off! My Scotsman is freezing; I did tell him to put something else on. Richmond in January can be quite cold. But, of course, 18th century Scotsmen are certainly stubborn.” He rambled as he motioned towards the man he was with named Jamie. I just decided to pretend he hadn’t said that. “Goodbye Miss Graves, it was nice seeing you again.”

 

As the doctor and his friend left I waved them off, it was only moments before Lionel returned that I realized what the older man had just said. There again was something I pretended not to have heard; I would begin doing that far more frequently in the future.

 

Lionel smiled as he handed me the take out. “So, what did I miss?”

 

**-X-**

**The Third Doctor:**

It was two years later, in the summer, when I came across the third strange event. I was going to Southhampton for a bit of vacation. I needed a vacation because of Lionel… he had asked me to marry him. Two years ago he had taken me to Richmond Park where I saw the best fireworks show ever. He, unfortunately, had missed the whole thing. But as we were heading home that night he had asked me to go out with him again. One thing leads to another, and here we are, two years later.

 

I needed space to think, and I had told him that. I had also said, precisely, that the answer would probably be yes but I would just like to think about it for a week. So there I was, in a rented jeep, driving to Southhampton.

 

I was only half way there, in an area where the road stretches on forever, with nothing but grass stretching on forever on each side. I had a CD popped into the CD player, listening to nothing but _Rush_ for the past thirty minutes.

 

Okay, so, I was driving along when something very yellow and very stranded catches my eye. In reflex I slammed onto the brakes and quickly came to a full stop, then I backed up and parked right in front of the very yellow thing.

 

I hopped out of my car to see what it was. It turned out to be a very strange little yellow car, the license plate saying WHO1 in the front. Being the very curious person I am I walked up to it, and then I leaned down and saw that there was a man underneath.

 

“Excuse me? But do you need some help?” I asked as I put my hands in my pockets and stared at the little roadster. Her hood was open, smoke coming from the engine. I hissed in sympathy for the car. Many a night I had stayed up with my dad fixing old things like her.

 

A man then crawls out from underneath the yellow roadster, oil on his face, hands, and pants. He’s got sweat on his brow, puffy what hair, and a ruffled pirate shirt on, a bow tie and jacket being discarded on the roadster’s front seat.

 

“Well hello there young lady!” He greets warmly as he gets to his feet. The old man begins to extend a hand for me to shake, but quickly retracts it and wipes it off with a handkerchief he pulls from his pant’s pocket. “A hand would be quite welcome, yes.” He smiles as he nods. “I sent a friend of mine; Sarah Jane, down the road a bit for water and fuel. But she has yet to return.” He explained as he walked back over to the engine.

 

“Hold on a sec.” I replied holding up a hand before I turned around and went to the back of my rented jeep. There I found a jug of water, a gallon of gasoline, and a box of tools. If there was one thing my father ever forced me to learn it was preparedness. I lugged them out of the jeep and over to the roadster. “Here ‘ya go.”

 

The older man looked down at the supplies and grinned. “Brilliant! Just what I needed.” He sorted through the toolbox first and brought out a screwdriver swiftly. “It may not be sonic but it’ll do!” He shouted gleefully as he went to the hood of the car and started fiddling. It was a few moments later that the man remembered I was there, him getting completely concentrated on fixing his roadster.

 

“How much do you know about cars my dear?” He asks over his shoulder as he continues to fiddle.

 

“Well my dad taught me plenty of different things. What seems to be the problem?” I answer, walking over to join him by the hood.

 

“Something’s come loose in poor Bessie, and even as a man of unshakable intelligence, I can’t seem to figure out what it is.” He explained, patting the car gently like you would a pet.

 

I bite my lip and nod. “I’ll take a look.” I offered and discarded my light jacket, tossing it into the backseat of the roadster. I get up underneath the car and twenty minutes later I’m filling her back up with gas, the little car good as new. My dad was ever so thorough with his lessons on car anatomy. “All done!” I announced, walking over to put Bessie’s hood back down.

 

 

 

“Why thank you Miss Graves!” The older man puts on a big bright smile as he shakes my hand erratically. “Now I must be off, who knows what trouble Sarah Jane has gotten herself into by now.” With that he jumps into the roadster and gets back on the road, waving goodbye.

 

It was minutes later, everything packed back into my jeep, that I realized two things. One; he had known my name, just like the man on New Years Eve had. And two; I had left my jacket in the back seat of his roadster.

 

**-X-**

**The Fourth Doctor:**

 

Another year later the fourth event happens. By this time I am indeed married to Lionel and have moved into a flat in London with him. It’s a content existence but by now, everyday, I’m expecting to meet another man who is in need of a hand that knows my name without introduction. It is an odd thing to expect but I don’t mind.

 

That day I’m going to do the shopping, since Lionel goes through tea like I do juice, we were in need of several things. I get to the shop no problem but getting inside is what ends up being difficult.

 

There, in the automatic sliding doors, is a mad looking man with his three-foot long scarf stuck in the door. He was just sitting there, eating from a little bag of something in his hands.

 

Underneath the multi-colored scarf the man wore a nice, if not a little rough, suit. His hair was brown and very very curly. He even had a very smug look plastered on his face.

 

“Excuse me?” I walked up to him and his eyes settled on me quickly.

 

“Ah! Hello! Would you like a jelly baby?” He said with a deep voice and held up the little bag he had been eating from, a huge grin coming onto his lips.

 

I shrugged. _‘Why not?’_ I thought as I took one and popped it into my mouth. After swallowing it I looked back at the man and tilted my head. “Are you stuck?” I asked.

 

“Me? Stuck? Never!” He shouted, crossing his arms, lips coming into a pout. “ _Well,”_ He relented quickly. “Maybe.” He smiled again, childishly, as if I had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

 

I chuckled, shaking my head as I stood on the mat in front of the door. It slid open effortlessly. But even still the scarf was stuck, but not in the door, rather it was tied to a pole inside the shop, a few feet away.

 

My brow rose at that and I looked back at the man. “Who did you upset?”

 

He shrugged nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Plenty of people.” He replied easily.

 

I rolled my eyes and walked over to the pole, wondering why no one else had helped him, or why he hadn’t untied the scarf himself. I shook my head at the thought and simply untied the scarf. After the scarf was untied I walked back over to him.

 

“You’re free now.” I stated warmly.

 

He swiftly stood and grinned like a cat at me. “Ah yes! Free, free as time… or was it bird? I rather like the time bit better.” He rambled then shook my hand happily. “Well thank you Scarlett, we must do this again some time!” And with that said he was off, hopping down the road.

 

I sighed contentedly; it hadn’t surprised me at all that he had known my name.

 

**-X-**

**The Fifth Doctor:**

 

It was only a few months later when the fifth event happened. Actually it happened right outside my flat. Lionel was gone for the day and I was working on a new sketch.

 

Outside there was a sound. The strangest sound I’d ever heard in my life. It wasn’t alarming, it wasn’t a noise, and it wasn’t broken. It sounded calming; it made me feel warm and safe. It was an amazingly incredible sound and that sound was followed by a crashing noise and then some very loud shouting.

 

I stood, leaving my pencil and sketch forgotten, as I threw on my coat and headed downstairs to my front door. Before I could open it there was a knock. I rose a brow and opened the door half way.

 

“Pardon me but- Oh!” There was a young man outside my door, perhaps only a year older than myself. He suddenly wore a very surprised expression. “It’s you!” He certainly sounded surprised.

 

I looked at him, confused. I was sure I didn’t know this man, even though he did remind me a bit of Lionel, but still. He was tall, an inch or so taller than me, he had nicely groomed blonde hair, a nice warm face, a hat adorning his head, cricket clothing, and a stick of celery on his lapel.

 

I shook my head. “I don’t think I know you. Your face isn’t familiar.”

 

“No, it wouldn’t be. It’s rather new!” He replied, a very warm and friendly smile on his face.

 

Something, rather suddenly, in my chest, tightened. I ignored it and sighed. “Do you need something?” I asked politely.

 

“Ah yes! Would you happen to have a book of history?” He replies, putting his hands nervously in his pocket. “There is a bit of a point I’m trying to prove to Tegan and Turlough isn’t making things any easier.” The man explains and only continues to confuse me more.

 

“Yeah, sure.” I nod and open the door further, not really considering why he didn’t just go to a library, and I let him in. I head up the stairs and hear him follow. Then I go straight to my huge bookcase beside the door. The man walks in after me and looks around. “Do you do this often?” I enquire.

 

“Hmm?” He asks, looking over at some the sketches on top of my desk.

 

“Walk up to strangers and ask them for history books.” I clarify as I sort through the books on the shelf.

 

“Who says you are a stranger?” He asks with sincerity, looking intently at the drawing I had done of the mad man with a scarf I had met some months ago.

 

I rolled my eyes and dropped the subject. “Here.” I hand him my large hardback history book that I had used to research a topic for my last novel. “You can have it if you like.” I say as the blond takes the heavy textbook.

 

He holds the book and smiles. “Thank you Miss Graves.” He says and begins to leave, but stops at my door and turns to me. “If you will, keep your eyes on the blue police box outside your kitchen window. If you don’t mind.” And with that he was gone.

 

I was confused again, befuddled, and curious about what he was talking about. But I was far more dumbfounded when I saw a blue police box disappear outside my kitchen window. Now that was a spectacle!

 

**-X-**

**The Sixth Doctor:**

Another year later I found myself taking a stroll. Around then my inspiration had dried up, become steadily depleted. I could not even finish a drawing let alone a book. The feeling of emptiness had started to make me easily agitated. And it was one night that year that I just had to get out and breathe some fresh air.

 

I was wearing my jacket, cellphone in my pocket just in case Lionel needed me, and had my boots on. It was cool out but not cold and not completely night time yet either. I could see the moon but not the stars and it wasn’t so dark.

 

My stroll took me farther then I thought it would as I ended up outside of a large office building, one that I didn’t really recognize. I had just started taking my first steps back to my flat when I heard an uproar of shouting and arguing.

 

“You are a complete imbecile!”

 

“Sir you’re claiming that there might-”

 

“There is!”

 

“That there _might_ be a bomb in this building.”

 

“YES! I am speaking English aren’t I?”

 

“Sir we’ve searched the building, we found nothing.”

 

“That’s because it’s undetectable!”

 

I sighed, far too curious to walk away, and went around to where the commotion was. There, at the front doors of the building, was an officer and a strange man.

 

The man, whom was taller than the officer, wore a strangely colored coat. He had a curly head of dirty blond hair and a very angry expression on his face. With his hands in his pockets he was literally death glaring down at the officer.

 

“Excuse me?” I said, walking up to the two. Instantly, as the strange man’s eyes landed on me, his face brightened.

 

“Finally! Someone that’s somewhat competent! Tell him Scarlett, tell him that I’m absolutely always right!” He stated arrogantly, coming over to pat me on the shoulder roughly.

 

I knew it; I just knew it had to be him! Or a series of him, a group of him, well, whatever the heck he is! Who else would argue with a copper other than an impossible man like him- _or them-!_

 

I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “He is almost always right.” I stated to the officer, who was analyzing me fiercely.

 

“ _’Almost’_?” I heard the rainbow coat wearing man behind me parrot in disbelief.

 

“Ma’am do you know this man?” The officer asked, tone suspicious.

 

“Yes, he’s ever so important.” I replied. “He practically leads UNIT.” I lied, my silver tongue having not been put to use for years. Although, ironically, I was kind of right. But at that moment I was just making it all up. “If he says there’s a bomb in the building then there’s a bomb in the building.” I said this with a very serious tone, my face straight as I kept back a smile.

 

“Well,” The officer rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Alright.” He nodded. “But I’m calling this in. I’m going to have to verify your ID.” He stated.

 

The color coated man smiled and handed the officer a leather wallet. “That should do it, I’m sure.” He holds onto the lapels of his coat and just glows with pride after the officer takes the wallet.

 

It’s minutes later that the building is evacuated, and minutes after that the building blows. When it does I look back up at the man, surprised.

 

“What kind of bomb is undetectable?” I asked, eyes securely locked with his.

 

“An alien bomb of course!” He says cheerfully, then with a spring in his step he’s off, heading toward an alley.

 

_“What?”_

 

**-X-**

**The Seventh Doctor:**

Exactly one month later the seventh strange event happens. Only a week earlier I had gone to the hospital for the stomach virus. Well, what I thought was the stomach virus was actually me… _pregnant_. Lionel screamed his little head off when I told him, he was so happy to know that he was going to become a father. Ever since I had told him the news he’d been super protective, he even started doing the laundry and cooking for me. Not that I’m complaining.

 

After finding out the good news my imagination depletion stopped and I felt so full of ideas, fresh new ideas! And just a few days earlier still my publisher had informed me that I was going to have a book signing in Cambridge. Lionel fought tooth and nail to get me to stay home, but I wanted to go while I was still skinny, and while I still had freedom. I wanted to take advantage of that freedom while I still had the chance.

 

I rented another jeep, headed out, got a hotel room for the night, and woke up bright and early for the book signing. It was in a nice quaint little bookstore called ‘ _Legends and More’_ and the lady that helped me set up there was very kind.

 

When the bookstore opened there was already a line of people waiting. I couldn’t believe how many people were already there! Most of them were teenagers but I got adults here and there, even an elderly couple. I got a few minutes to talk to each person, and I felt my heart warm considerably at all their kind words of adoration. I really had no idea people liked my books so much.

 

Twelve hours later the line had dissipated, and it was time for the bookstore to close. I was just packing up when I heard knocking on the door.

 

“I’m sorry sir, we’re closed.” I could hear the kind old lady who owned the place explaining to the person outside.

 

“I did not mean to be late, but time is a fickle thing you see, and Miss Graves is an old friend of mine.” The voice speaking to the older woman was that of a man’s. A voice I’d never heard before yet thought of as a friend.

 

“Miss?” I put my things down and walked to the door. “Please, if you don’t mind, it won’t take me but a minute.” I motioned for her to let the man in and she did, nodding her head in acceptance.

 

The man who walked in was wearing a long grey overcoat, a beige hat, a strange question mark covered vest, and had an odd cane. A young girl in a patch covered jacket walked in behind him.

 

“Now remember what I told you Ace.” The man insisted to the pony-tailed girl, waving his cane towards her.

 

The girl rolls her eyes, her hands in her pockets. “Yes Professor, I promise not to bring out the Nitro 9.” She replies, bored.

 

I ignored the fact that most likely she was talking about an explosive. Instead I put out my hand for a handshake, and this man actually shook my hand calmly. “So, need something? A history book, a screwdriver, or maybe there’s a scarf stuck out there somewhere?” I joked, having put my hand back in my pocket.

 

The man chuckled. “No, no, not this time Miss Graves.” Then, out of his small beige coat pockets, he pulls out my book. “I merely came here for the signing.”

 

I was a bit shocked to see he had read my book. The book itself was tilted _‘The Many Faces of Inspiration’_ and was a story about a girl who keeps meeting a man who can change his face. He takes this girl away, far away, and they have adventure after adventure together in alternate universes.

 

 

 

I took out my marker and looked at the book. It wasn’t a hardback copy and the pages were badly turned, almost as if he had read the book over and over again. I took the marker in my hand and signed it with a huge _S.G.,_ then I added: _To my friend._

When I handed the book back to him he smiled. “Thank you Miss Graves.” He tipped his hat to me and began to usher Ace out the door. But before the door was completely closed he looked back at me quickly and said: “It’s all true you know.” And with that he was gone.

 

**-X-**

**The Eighth Doctor:**

Another year passes and I have no child. My baby girl, my Alex, was stillborn; she died before she could even breathe her first breath. My twenty-ninth birthday was spent in depressing agony. Lionel tried to cheer me up time after time but I really didn’t feel like being cheered up.

 

My drawing and writing completely stopped. I felt no inspiration at all. The time I spent was either at home or at the clinic. Lionel thought about getting me a therapist but never had the courage to go through with it.

 

I’m sitting at home, watching something on the TV without really watching it, when the eighth strange event happens.

 

There’s a knock on the door downstairs, I was reluctant to get up and answer it, but while I may have been depressed I didn’t want to be useless. So I got up and went downstairs. I remembered distinctly how hard it was to climb those stairs when I was eight months into my pregnancy. Now, however, I weighed less then I did when I was in high school.

 

My auburn hair falls past my shoulders, having I hadn’t had a haircut in months. I wear glasses now as well, but I continually have to push them up my nose so that I can see through them.

 

I grab the knob and open the door. On the other side there is a man holding a large basket full of fruits and other treats. In the middle of the basket is a large card that says: _I’m sorry_. He pushes it to me and I take it from his arms.

 

There had been plenty of people that had said that to me during those months. But now a complete stranger was giving me a gift basket. I could only wonder: ‘ _Did the world know?’_

 

“I know it will be hard.” The man says, a gentle hand landing on my shoulder as he spoke.

 

Now that I could see him I noticed that the man in front of me was dressed oddly. He wore an 18th century styled suit, his hair was brown, long, and very curly. He had such kind eyes and such a warm smile too, and seeing him actually made me feel so much better. He was the face of my inspiration after all, and after all this time I was beginning to be able to tell when it was _him_.

 

“But letting yourself die is not the answer.” He squeezed my shoulder reassuringly and I felt tears prick my eyes. “You still have so much life left in you. Don’t waste it.”

 

My vision had become blurry but I nodded just the same. “Thank you.” I said shyly, but before my eyes could clear he was gone, and with his disappearance came that wonderful noise I heard so long ago.

 

This time though, this time I heard a song, and a beautiful voice singing that song. And all was well.

 

**-X-**

**The Ninth Doctor:**

It was only two months later when he showed up again, _my strange event_. By then I was a lot better, not quite ready for the outside world yet, but I wasn’t sitting around moping either. I was drawing some here and there but I hadn’t found the inspiration to write again just yet.

 

It had been storming terribly outside; rain coming down like cats and dogs, lightning shooting out here and there. It was pitch black, some larger office buildings having lost electricity. Lionel ended up stranded at work for that night, no one daring to drive through the storm.

 

Still I got a visitor! Even through this horrible storm there was still a knock at my door.

 

Quickly, I put on my shoes and ran downstairs. I opened the door and a tall man swiftly stepped inside, desperate to get out of the rain. I hurriedly shut the door behind him.

 

There was something off about him though, something not right. He stood at least two inches taller than me, only a little hair on his head, a rather large leather jacket thrown around his shoulders, and really big ears.

 

What was odd was the fact that he was crying. He was sobbing like a little kid, hysterical in his actions.

 

“It’s all gone Scarlett!” He shouted as he tossed himself against the wall. “They’re all dead, and it’s all my fault!” His words were thick with sobbing but also with an accent. And once again I knew this man, the man who just months ago saved me from myself, and now, as all the other times, he needed my help.

 

“Come here.” I grabbed his arm and tugged him to me. His head landed on my shoulder, his chest to mine, and he cried. I put my arms around him and squeezed, showing him that I was here for him, anything he needed, I’d be there.

 

“They’re gone…” He took a deep shaky breath. “They’re all gone…. I’m all alone. It’s all my fault. I couldn’t save them.” His breath hitched and his body shook. “I couldn’t save them.” He whispered, his arms circling my waist. “I’m all alone.”

 

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, the storm outside dragging on, his sobs continuing. I found my hand going up into his hair, stroking his head, humming him a song that my mom used to sing to me.

 

When finally his breathing evened, and he seemed to calm, I grabbed his sleeve and tugged him upstairs. He went pliantly, silent. I took him into my living room and sat him down on the couch. He stayed there as I went to make him some tea. While I’m not a fan of tea myself I know how soothing it can be and that’s exactly what he needed right now, soothing.

 

I handed him a mug and he chugged the drink even though it was still scolding hot. I sat beside him as he busied himself with the tea. Then I took a deep breath and just watched him.

 

“Look,” I started, hoping to help and not hinder. “I don’t know what you mean by _‘you couldn’t save them’_ and it’s no business of mine to know. But I just want _you_ to know,” I swallowed the hot lump in my throat thickly. “That I’m still here for you, no matter what.” It was something I never thought I’d find myself saying, especially not to someone whom I didn’t even know his name.

 

But whoever or whatever this man was, with the ability to change faces and make police boxes disappear, he needed someone right now, and I owed it to him to be there for him.

 

All he could do, with his eyes so red and cheeks so wet, was smile at me. And I smiled right back, patting his knee gently.

 

“I’ve got a few things I need to do but you’re very welcome to stay the night.” I offer as I get up from the couch and head into the kitchen. For a little while I left him be and ended up washing some dishes for a bit, but when I go back into the living room, planning to ask him if he was hungry, he was already gone.

 

**-X-**

**The Tenth Doctor:**

Lionel was dead. Killed in a car accident the day of my thirtieth birthday. I had been getting better too, finally able to go out for walks and write. But then I had to attend my younger husband’s funeral and I just couldn’t take it. I couldn’t go back to our flat, it was just too painful, and I wanted to move back to America…. But I couldn’t do that either. I was terrified that if I moved back to America I’d never see HIM again.

 

So I moved to Hastings, on the beach. I had the money saved up, and a house picked out. It was where Lionel and me were going to retire too. But instead of cuddles on the beach and kisses by the fire I ended up completely alone.

 

It was a week after I moved to Hastings that there was a knock on my door. I wasn’t expecting anyone, Lionel’s family having cut ties with me and my own still back in America. None of my friends knew where I was, me having secreted away in the night.

 

With a warm blanket around my shoulders and pajamas on, I went to the door. As soon as I opened it a white ball of fluff flew past my feet. It circled around my house quicker than I could blink and came right back, jumping up next to my leg.

 

“Sorry, she’s, _well_ , a bit energetic.”

 

When I heard _his_ voice my head whipped around and I saw, standing in my doorway, a very handsome man. His dark brown hair was spiked; he was wearing a long brown coat with a blue pinstripe suit on underneath. Automatically I knew it was _him_ , even though his fashion sense had reasonably improved, he was still my strange event.

 

“I just thought you might like her.” He smiles, knowing very well why I might need companionship, but avoiding the subject completely.

 

I smiled up at him before bending down at my knees to pet the overly excited puppy. The puppy was pure snow white and very fuzzy. She looked up at me with huge blue eyes and the cutest little face. I couldn’t resist the urge to hug her and burry my face in her fur.

 

“She’s a Great Pyrenees. She’ll get pretty big and ‘ll need a lot of care but I think you can handle it.” He says cheerfully as he bends down to pet the puppy too.

 

My eyes were starting to fill with tears again, my arms completely around the big fluffy puppy. When I lifted my head from her fur he was still there, just warmly smiling at me. In his eyes though, in those eyes lite with stars, I could see what he really wanted to say but had no courage to.

 

_‘I’ll be here for you too.’_

I gritted my teeth as I tried to stop from sobbing. But I couldn’t help it. Gently, I put the puppy down and launched myself at the tall skinny man. He fell backwards, a surprised noise coming from his mouth, as I hugged him as hard as I could.

 

Before I knew it he was hugging me back, and in that second, everything seemed to be okay. Lionel was dead, my daughter was dead, but I wasn’t all alone. I had my strange event all along, there for me.

 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as we just stayed there like that, me on top of him, half way over the threshold of my door, me hugging the stuffing out of him. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.” I whispered back. “It’s not your fault, it’s never been your fault. These things happen, all anyone can do is what they can. We’re not gods, we’re simply people, and life always goes on.” I say as I get to my knees, just looking into his eyes, my voice suddenly so strong.

 

The way he looked back at me though, as he sat up. His mouth was gaping open, shock in his eyes. He was like that for minutes, and then something clicked inside of him, a look of eureka on his face. After he realized something, whatever clicked in his head, he smiled the brightest smile I’ve ever seen on his face.

 

For once there was no pain there, no suppressed emotions, just contented happiness. And it was beautiful!

 

“Thank you.” He whispered one last thing before cupping my face and kissing me on the head like my father used to. “Thank you!” And with that he was off again, his converses carrying into the sand.

 

And for once in a very long time, with my puppy Alex in my lap, I was content.

 

**-X-**

**The Eleventh/Twelfth Doctor:**

 

It’s exactly one year later, on the day of my thirty-first birthday that my life changes forever. All the years of watching him, seeing all his different faces, that on this day I finally found out who my strange event really was.

 

I’m reading by the fireplace, as it’s a chilly evening, the sun setting on the horizon, casting light in through the windows, as Alex begins to bark. She sits up from where she was laying beside me and sniffs the air.

 

 

 

“What is it Alex?” I ask as I pet her white fluffy head. Her ears suddenly shoot up as I do and she just starts to bark hysterically at the wall. My brows furrow and I get up from my chair. As I begin to walk over to whatever Alex was barking at, said dog grabs my sleeve with her mouth, not wanting me to leave her side. “What is it girl?” I ask her again, as I get down on my knees to ruffle her ears.

 

But then, so very suddenly, the wind picks up. I look around and see that none of the windows are open, yet there was a whirlwind starting to spin in my house. Papers go everywhere and something begins to fade in and out behind me. When I turn to look all I see is blue, slowly something starts to take form, soon enough I can read a sign that says Police Box, and I hear that song again.

 

I hear the sound that this thing carries with it and the song that it sings, and it only gets louder and louder until it’s fully materialized in the corner of my living room.

 

Slowly, shyly, I stand up on shaky legs, my pulse going a million miles an hour as I get to my feet. Alex finally stops barking then, as the doors to the blue Police Box open.

 

Bright golden light streams out of the box and a man falls on his side after the door no longer holds him up. I race over to him and see that his skin is shining and that he’s covered in blood.

 

I brush my fingers gently through his black hair and touch the little red bowtie under his neck. His tweed jacket is completely out of sorts, and on his left side, underneath the tweed, is a huge gaping wound.

 

“Scarlett.” The fallen man whispers weakly.

 

Quickly I take his hand and hold onto it dearly. “I’m here, I’m right here, shhh.” I gently pet his scalp and hum into his ear.

 

“I’m dying.” He explains, cracking one bloodied eye open to look up at me. When his gaze lands on my face he smiles. His arm trembles, a hand coming up to cup my cheek, wiping away the tears from my face.

 

“I know.” I lean into his hand and sigh, a sob getting caught in my throat as I do.

 

“Scarlett, Scarlett Graves.” He breathes, his voice so soft. “The young girl that helped me in the park when I forgot my cane, the woman who leant me her zippo, who helped me fix Bessie, who untied my scarf.” He listed, not even half way done, his hand getting colder and colder. “The woman that gave me her history text, that lied for me, that signed my book.” His smile falters suddenly and he has a coughing fit, blood from his lungs going everywhere.

 

“Stop, please.” I beg, squeezing his hand in mine. “You’re not supposed to talk, I need to call the hospital!” I try and get up to go do that, but using his last remains of strength he keeps me seated.

 

“Me? Stop talking? Hell would freeze over.” He jokes, laughing lightly, his tone pained.

 

“Don’t die,” My head lowers to his shoulder and sobs rack through my body. “Please don’t die.” The unspoken, _‘I don’t want to be alone’,_ is left hanging in the air like a dark storm cloud.

 

Gently hands find their way to my hair and began to stroke my head reassuringly. I can’t help the extra strong sob that comes out when he begins to lift me chin.

 

“Scarlett Graves, the woman who was there for me when I was all alone?” He whispers, our faces only an inch apart. “I would never leave you.” He states, so sure that he wouldn’t. “Now, please, get back.” Suddenly, he begins to push me away, and since I wasn’t expecting the action, I stumble.

 

He’s standing when I look back up, but more importantly he begins to glow. His skin was shining when he first fell out of the box, but now he was literally glowing gold. He looked like a god!

 

“AAAHHHHHH!” He begins to scream when the gold glow completely devours him, his arm and head spraying the glow out like water from a hose.

 

Every bone in my body wants to run to him, to sooth his pain away, but if he didn’t want me near him then I would do what he wanted. My body shook and trembled in emotional pain as I watched him change.

 

His hair changed first, then his eyes, face, and lastly the rest of his body. When he was done changing he just stood there and grinned, then abruptly fell backwards onto my couch.

 

I ran to him after the glow completely dissipated. He was breathing evenly now, the wound gone but his clothes still stained. I sat beside him and just waited for him to wake up, if he was asleep that is.

 

His new hair was red, curly, but not long. His new features were sharp and handsome, his face young, and his legs long. He didn’t seem too much different from the last time I’d seen him actually.

 

Suddenly, I felt a strong urge to touch his new face, see if his skin was made of Botox or plastic. But the moment my fingers felt his cheek he sits up rashly with a gasp. I bolt back, shocked.

 

The man in front of me, the man that can change his face so easily, takes a few deep breaths, and then turns to me. He grins a new grin with such white teeth, his green eyes sparkling with excitement, and he says: “Ah! Random but very _very_ important question!” He pauses to be dramatic, eyes wide with exhilaration. “Am I ginger?”

 

My brows furrow when he says this, mouth gaping. I’m completely stunned speechless, but not in awe, _no,_ far from awe. It was more like anger.

 

Before I knew what I was doing I had slapped him across the face, hard, tears stinging my eyes.

 

“Ow!” He yelled, his expression that of pain and confusion. “What was that for?” He whined while rubbing his newly red cheek.

 

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE DYING!” I shouted, anger and frustration bubbling up inside of me.

 

“Well I was,” He began to explain gently. “But I got better.”

 

I just… I just didn’t know what to say to that. So I didn’t. Instead I began to get up and leave, too many stinging emotions coming to the surface.

 

“Wait!” He called, grabbing ahold of my wrist, gripping it tightly, desperately. “Come with me.” He offered sincerely, looking into my eyes. “Come see the stars with me.”

 

This strikes me, my heart beating faster, as if he was really offering me the opportunity of a lifetime. He was though, he really was. That thing, standing there in my living room, it could travel in space. I could really see the stars, with him of all people in the world. My pulse went all a flutter at the very thought, to finally know this man as he knows me.

 

I look at him, into his very gaze, and smiled. “But I don’t even know your name.” I argue.

 

The man paused at this then looked very surprised, shocked even. In the blink of an eye he sprang up and offered his hand. I took it swiftly.

 

“Hello Scarlett Graves, I’m The Doctor.” He finally, after almost ten years, introduced himself. “Would you like to come away with me? Travel the universe and see the stars?” He asked as he lowered his head to mine.

 

_“Yes.”_

 

**-X-**

_-Because no matter how dark things seem the stars will always be there to light your way home-_

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
